The Anatomy of Nick Miller
by gnbrules
Summary: The anatomy of Nick Miller, as experienced by Jessica Day. Not nearly as weird or as dirty as it sounds.
1. Tips of His Toes

**The Anatomy of Nick Miller**

**Summary: The anatomy of Nick Miller, as experienced by Jessica Day. Not nearly as weird or as dirty as it sounds.**

It's not that she hates Nick's feet, it's just that she's a little bit grossed out by them. They're hairy and a little bit smelly and though his toenails aren't as bad as Schmidt's, they're still sharp as daggers. Sometimes when their legs are tangled up in bed together, his toenails will scrape against her legs and leave little white scratches on her skin. Jess hasn't had the heart to tell him.

But then they're on the couch one day and he lays back and props his bare feet up in her lap. She cringes involuntarily and he sees. "What was that face for?" he demands.

"Nothing, what face? I didn't make a -"

"You're making it right now! Still!"

"I am not, Nick."

"You are so," he says, and as he says it, he shifts his legs slightly and her eyes get drawn to his feet and how they now rest even closer against her stomach. He notices this, too.

"Uh-huh! Is it my feet? You don't like my feet?"

"No I just -"

He doesn't let her finish, instead lifts his legs up so his feet are just about level with her face. She shrieks and pushes them away, quickly scooting off the couch. "Okay, your feet are gross, Nick! They smell and your hairy toes freak me out."

"It's just hair. And they don't smell, here take another sniff." he says, pushing his feet towards her again. She bolts away from him and suddenly he's up and chasing her around the apartment. She escapes to the bedroom but he follows her through the door before she has a chance to close it. He trips on an old pile of clothes and tumbles back onto the bed. Before he can do anything but register what happened, Jess pounces on him. She positions herself on top of his shins, effectively pinning his feet down against the bed.

"Ha," Jess declares.

And he could probably kick her off or squirm out from under her if he really tried, but the struggle has gone out of him. Instead, he's leaning back and taking in the sight of her above him. She's still catching her breath and her cheeks are tinged with pink from the exertion and her hair is fanning out crazily and she looks positively _kissable. _"This," he says. "I'm okay with this."

She looks him up and down, submissive beneath her, and gets the idea immediately. "If I get closer to kiss you, you promise to keep those feet down and not anywhere near my face?"

"First of all, I'm glad you think I'm that flexible," Nick says. "But yeah, I promise. But only if you kiss me." His smile and eyes are soft, and there's something to the way he's looking at her that makes her heart flutter in his chest.

She hopes he can see the same look in her eyes, the one that says she'd take him as he is, gross feet and all.

And since she can't be sure that he _does_ see it, she makes extra sure that he can feel it in her kiss.


	2. Bowl Full of Jelly

**Tummy**

She's probably strangely obsessed with his pudgy tummy. It's a little weird how much thought she gives it sometimes. She used to think she had the usual female hotness ideals – guys with washboard abs are quite something to look at, after all, but they're not _Nick. _They're not comfortable or soft or warm like him. They don't make her think of Santa or unwashed beer-stained hoodies that still smell good because they smell like him.

Sometimes she hugs him from behind, lets her fingers dig in a little to his soft gut. It's during one of these times that she accidentally speaks out loud, saying, "I love your pudge." And suddenly he's pulling away from her and giving her a defensive glare.

"Pudge? I do not have _pudge. _Is that even a word?"

"It's okay Nick, I like it!" she assures him. "It's sexy! It reminds me of like, Santa and Christmas." And she really shouldn't have said that last part out loud, because he looks downright horrified.

"Santa can't be sexy, Jess!" he tells her. "That's just an old scary bearded fat man, luring children with toys."

"Don't you make Santa sound pervy like that!" she says loudly. "And it can be sexy -"

The conversation turns decidedly weird, pointless and heated after that as they try to determine whether Santa can be sexy. "What about Sexy Santa Schmidt?" Jess points out. "There's a reason the women at his office wanted-"

"That's not even Santa-like and you know it!" he interrupts. "It's just Schmidt shirtless in a Santa hat. You called me pudgy, like look at fat Santa with his big jiggling jolly belly!"

"Stop making it weird!"

"It is weird! I bet you're the only one in the world who thinks a legitimate Santa can be sexy."

"Then explain to me the existence of the song, Santa Baby!"

He's sputters for a minute, speechless. "Well. Yeah. There's that."

She moves closer to him, cups a hand to his cheek. "It was meant as a compliment, Nick. You make me think of happy things. Like Christmas and Santa and hot chocolate. You feel," she says slowly, drawing it out so he can truly understand the weight of what she says next, "You feel like coming home."

Once again, he's left speechless. He leans in suddenly, swipes her bangs back away from her forehead and gives her a light kiss on her skin there. For some reason it feels like the most tender thing he could possibly do right here, right now.

The moment holds until it's entirely too much, and he breaks it with a smirk. "So...you've got a pudgy old man kink, huh, Jess? I guess I can work with that."

She laughs and he laughs and she smacks him lightly against his stomach. "Ouch, don't hurt the goods. How else am I going to seduce you?"

She smirks and offers him a wink. "You don't have to seduce _me, _Nick Miller," she says, and then she's walking away from him with a little more sway to her hips than is necessarily natural. She's also singing as she goes. "_Santa Baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me. I've been an awful good girl."_

And after he manages to do anything besides grin stupidly at her retreating back, he finally gets the sense to follow her towards her room.


	3. A Wondrous Subtle Thing

**A Wondrous Subtle Thing**

_Her thoughts are hazy and wandering, but they keep coming back to that one point of connection between them. Their hands, linked together._ _His hand. Nick's hand._ _A couple of his fingers are calloused and she wonders how a bartender gets callouses, but thinks it kind of suits him. But the rest of his hand is softer in comparison and warm. His palms sweat when he's nervous. He's not nervous now. He's comfortable like her. He's comfortable _with _her. She's drifting now, content in the knowledge that Nick Miller is holding her hand. _

It's been a bad day. It started right in the morning, when they were out of milk, meaning Jess went without breakfast. Then she was irritable with her mother and ended the phone call on bad terms. Now she feels guilty and tired and work did nothing to soothe her mood. Her students aren't making the kind of progress she expected by now and she's frustrated that she hasn't found a way to more properly motivate them.

She just wants a break, but even after work there's not one to be found. Because Schmidt's been working overtime lately, leaving less time for him to clean up, and Winston and Nick still apparently don't know how to wash a dish. She tries to ignore it. It's their problem, or Schmidt's problem later but...the sink is starting to smell and she can't handle that. So she gets to work scrubbing dishes and cringing her nose at the sight of the last of the milk apparently curdled overnight in one of the cereal bowls.

It's just when she's finished them all that Winston and Nick come home together, carting fast food bags from Pete's, that burger place a few blocks down. "Hey Jess, glad you're ho-"

She rounds on them both with a glare, then focuses it on Nick. "How is it," she asks, "that you guys don't even cook and still manage to make all those dishes?"

They both look positively taken aback. Nick gulps. Winston stutters out, "Ah, well this seems like a couple fight right? So yeah. I'll just. Eat in my room. Yeah." And he walks away to do just that, abandoning Nick to Jess's mercy.

Nick manages to stand his ground, and do so with more concern than annoyance. "What's wrong, Jess?" he asks.

She's a big believer in sharing feelings, but right now she just doesn't have the energy to explain the badness of this day to him. She huffs a sigh and deflates. "I guess I'm just tired."

His sincere look of sympathy softens her slightly, and she feels bad for snapping at him. "Okay," Nick says. "Just get comfortable on the couch, maybe put on one of your movies? Let me take care of the rest."

She has no idea what "the rest" actually entails because she was planning on curling up on the couch anyway. How he gets to look like the hero for suggesting it doesn't really make sense to her. But she obliges because she really is too tired to fight and maybe a little hormonal. She really could use a chick flick right now and he's given her reign over the television without a fight. That's a win in her book.

She picks _Pretty Woman _and sets it up in the DVD player, then folds herself onto the couch, scrunching in by the right armrest. In all the bustle, she hadn't even noticed that Nick had left the room until he returns carrying one of her blankets and a pillow. He tosses both in her direction and she smiles. "Thank you, Nick."

He smiles back. "Best is yet to come." he says. "Close your eyes, Jess."

"I...okay." she says, deciding to trust him.

She closes her eyes and now all she can hear is the low volume of the movie starting and Nick bustling around in the kitchen. He opens the fridge, he closes it. He opens the cabinet, closes it, and something clatters loudly to the ground. He curses.

"Umm, Nick did something break? Should I open my eyes now?"

"No! Just give me a second, Jess!"

She trusts him. Seriously, she does. And a few seconds later there's suddenly a waft of food aroma at her nose and he says, "Open 'em."

She does and sees the plate of food he's holding out for her. It's a chicken sandwich and fries, and she knows just where it came from. "You thought to get me something from Pete's?" she asks, genuinely surprised. She hadn't even been home at the time they'd gone out for food.

"No tomatoes, right?" he asks. "I always forget if it's no tomatoes or no pickles."

Her smile is so wide it actually kind of hurts her face. "It's no tomatoes," she says, and grabs a hold of his shirt to pull him down into a kiss. It's their first kiss since before she left for work this morning and for a moment, it completely eases her.

Then he pulls away and hands her the plate of food. She notices now that not only did he arrange the food very carefully on the plate, he also made a smiley face design out of ketchup. It makes her laugh and look up to see that his crooked smile matches that of Ketchup Face.

Nick settles in beside her, eating his burger and fries straight from the bag. He sneaks under her blanket too, and she loves feeling his warmth at her side. She scarfs down her food relatively quickly as they watch the movie together; she hadn't even realized how hungry she was. Then she's full and warm and content. The exact right combination to allow sleep to settle in. Somewhere in a haze of half-consciousness, she feels him take her hand beneath the blanket.

His fingers are salty from his fries, his fingers are calloused. His palm is soft and warm and dry. Their fingers linked together, that one point of connection between them. She's drifting now, content in the knowledge that Nick Miller is holding her hand.

**A/N: Wanted to switch it up a little with more story and a little less introspection. Also, title of this chapter comes from a quote from Sherlock Holmes about holding hands with someone. I don't feel like writing it all out here, but it's very sweet. Reviews greatly appreciated as always.**


	4. No More Tears

**A/N: Hey all! This one took me a bit longer because it's the first chapter I hadn't had any vague ideas about beforehand. The first version wasn't working out, but once I decided to start over for the most part, it came very quickly. One note about this chapter: it's the first I feel to truly earn it's T rating, potentially straying into light M territory (but tastefully so). Other than that warning, enjoy!**

They're giggling like lovestruck teenagers which they might as well be. Schmidt's not home but Winston is, and he can almost certainly hear them, but it goes to show just how deep her incredible _want _for Nick runs that she really, really doesn't care.

It feels impossibly sexy, to have the hot steamy shower water running over them both as their lips crash together, along with the rest of their bodies. She likes him pushed back against the tiles and at her mercy. And they're kissing and still giggling because isn't this so naughty and won't Schmidt be mad? He's kissing her neck and she's very nearly undone when she notices his shampoo on the shelf. She's never paid any attention before – she keeps her stuff on the opposite side of the shower. She grabs at his shampoo on a whim, momentarily distracted.

"Baby shampoo?" she asks, and he gives her just, the biggest grin she's ever seen him give.

"No more tears, Jess." he says, and she laughs.

Maybe it's a decidedly unsexy thing to do, but she can't resist the impulse. She opens the bottle, reaches up with it, and squirts a good amount onto his head.

"What the-" he asks, but then she massages it into scalp, and he inhales sharply. "Yeah okay," he sighs happily, "I can roll with this."

Her hands slide through his hair as he kisses her hard and soft and with overwhelming passion. He flips their positions suddenly and now she's against the tiles and at _his _mercy. In all honesty, it doesn't seem like he should be capable of this much energy with the way he eats and the way he _doesn't _work out, but dear God, _he is so very, very capable. _

She's taken over the edge within moments, him following shortly after, and they hold each other up in the glowing aftermath. Then they let the shower actually wash them off until there's no more hot water left. They get out and towel off, dress, and try to sneak out of the bathroom, but Winston's just outside of it, waiting. "I've had to pee for the last twenty minutes," he tells them, clearly annoyed.

"Sorry Winston," Nick says, and Jess follows suit. "Yeah, sorry Winston." But neither of them can keep much of a straight face, and it's clear that neither one of them is very sorry at all.

Winston rolls his eyes and goes into the bathroom, and the two of them make their way to her room. Nick flops onto the bed and she joins him, both spent and exhausted. He closes his eyes and looks impossibly content there beside her. She loves seeing him this way. "I have work in a few hours," he sighs, eyes still closed.

"I know. And I have to get some things ready for class tomorrow," she says.

"Mmm. Let's just. Little nap."

She smiles and snuggles in beside him, and even that is so new that it thrills her. She hadn't realized how much she'd yearned to be closer to him until she actually could be. She thinks of Melon Nick and how even then it felt weird and wrong to be away from the real Nick so much so that she needed a substitute. And that was the same night he kissed her and shook the ground beneath her feet.

Nick smells good, and she dreams of sunny beaches and pleasantly warm sand.

She wakes up an hour later, Nick snoring in her ear. She glances at the time and is immediately grateful that Nick will still have enough of it to get ready for work without rushing. She smiles at him and impulsively runs a hand through his hair. It gives her a heady sensation as she recalls the memories they made just an hour earlier. His hair is dry now and impossibly soft.

Far softer than she can ever remember it being.

"Nick, wake up," she says. "Nick!"

And he does, jolting awake and upright. "Time?" he asks frantically.

"You're good. You've still got like a half hour."

He breathes in deep, settles back into the bed just a little bit. "Oh. Okay. Good."

She smiles. "Hey, I've got a question for you. How come your hair's so soft right now?"

"Well, you washed it," Nick reminds her with a little smirk. "Remember?"

"Yeah, but what, is that a new shampoo for you?"

He shakes his head, looking more and more confused by the minute. "No."

Jess thinks back hard. She _knows _she's touched his hair often enough before now, it should have at least been this soft once or tw—

"Nick!" she exclaims, understanding suddenly dawning on her. "Is this the first time you've washed your hair since we've been together? It's been three weeks!"

"Yeah, so?" he says, finally pushing himself up off the bed and ineffectively trying to smooth the wrinkles out of his clothes with his hand. "How often do you wash your hair?"

"Like every couple days! Like a normal person, Nick!"

"What? That's crazy!" he exclaims. "What a waste of shampoo! I bet you have to buy more like every month!"

"Yeah, and I do, like a _normal person_!"

"Well normal people waste their money on stupid stuff." he argues.

"I'm sorry if being clean seems stupid to you, but most adult humans would agree that it's really, really not."

He moves past her and she follows him, and they continue arguing even after he grabs his keys and wallet out of his room as he gets ready for work.

"Jess, you didn't even notice until now." he tells her. "Did it smell? Did it burn you when you touched it? No, I'm pretty sure you would have told me that. I know you like my hair just fine, Jess. You're always putting your hands in it when we're doing it! I'm probably gonna go premature bald because of it."

She rolls her eyes as she follows him towards the front door, "Yeah, that's why you'll go bald."

He reaches up to his hair anxiously for a moment, but then recovers. "Admit it, Jess. For all your talk about how often is often enough, you. didn't. notice."

He has a point. Perhaps his hair just doesn't produce that much oil, and it's certainly not long enough to ever dip into say, a food platter or two, which has happened to her on occasion. A shower on its own for weeks at a time apparently works for him. "Well, no," she concedes. "But," she says softly, reaching up and tousling his hair once again, "I do like how soft it is now."

A spark lights in his eyes and for some reason, Jess finds herself instantly nervous.

Nick leans in, just an inch or so from her face, a smirk playing across his lips. He smells good and his breath is warm against her skin. "Well then maybe we can talk about occasional repeat performances of earlier," he says, and she inhales deeply. Often enough she's let herself believe that Nick can't seduce his way out of a paper bag but damn, he has _moves _when he wants to.

And then he pulls back and grins goofily at her. "Well, gotta head out now," he says, and she can tell with certainty that he knows what he's done to her even though he has to leave. Now she's going to be home all night and thinking of him and how much he frustrates her and how much she kind of likes it. God, she hates him. Mostly she just hates how much she wants to rip into him right now.

"See ya, Jess." And he pecks her a kiss goodbye, and she's still so overwhelmed with conflicting emotions that she doesn't even kiss back.

"Nick," she warns him as he opens the door. "I'm not going to wait up for you!"

"Wouldn't want you to," he assures her easily, and then he's gone.

She actually does stay up all night, prepping her lesson plan and cursing him and his stupid soft sexy hair. _Nick is going to pay, _she promises herself, and sure enough, when he arrives home in the early morning and they're both beyond sleep deprived, she still manages to release all her pent up twirliness and frustration upon him.

Funny how he doesn't seem to mind.


	5. The Shoop Shoop Song

She once told Cece that Nick's kiss made her see through time and space, and to this day, she's not entirely convinced she was being metaphorical. That kiss, those _lips, _took her some place shiny and shimmery and every thought but him went out of her head. Some people wait a lifetime for a kiss like that, and it's insane to think that she can experience a bit of that magic practically any time she wants now.

It's funny how those same lips that tend to trip over words, especially words related to his _feelings, _can be so ridiculously skilled at telling her the way he feels without them. When he kisses her lips, she knows how much she means to him and it makes her feel special, like she's the only girl in the world. When he kisses her forehead, she knows how much he wants to take care of her and she thinks just how much she wants to take care of him right back. When he kisses her neck, she knows how much he wants her (and how much she wants him right back). And when he kisses her anywhere else, well, she's generally too far gone for any coherent thought.

And his goodnight kisses, those are something else entirely. Since they've been together and made it officially official, he's always, always kissed her goodnight. It doesn't matter if they've just exhausted themselves out having sex, or if they've been bickering, or if one or both of them has had the kind of day you just want to end. He always leans over, presses those wonderful lips against hers, and says goodnight. Chaste and sweet and it makes her think of old married couples, and if she had to describe it in just one word, she'd say it feels like a promise.

_A few years down the line..._

They're watching her from afar, letting her explore the world and have her own fun. Where she gets her ability to keep herself so thoroughly entertained, Jess will never know, but she admires her imagination and her spirit. But her sense of adventure does come at a price, and she takes a rough tumble to the ground, and then she's hurried back to them, just another kid on the playground in need of comfort.

Big wet tears slide down her face. "I hurt my knee," she cries, and before Jess can do anything more than register this information, Nick's already got it covered. "Oh baby bear, let me see," he says and he scoops her up into his arms. Jess leans in to inspect it too, and is happy to see that though the knee has a white scrape on it, the injury didn't actually break the skin.

"It's not so bad," Nick tells her, but her tears continue.

"It still hurts."

"Alright, well I can fix that." he says, "Daddy's gonna do a magic trick. You close your eyes, and I'm gonna kiss it better, okay?"

"Okay," she agrees, and closes her eyes. Then he curls her body even tighter in his arms and leans down to press his lips to her knee. Innocent and sweet, a father's promise to heal his little girl. She opens her eyes when he pulls away, and she's got his smile, Jess thinks. "It does feel better!" she exclaims, popping back up almost immediately. She turns to her mother, wide eyes full of belief and happiness. "Mommy, Daddy's kiss is magic!"

Nick, still not entirely grown up in spite of everything, wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at Jess, who laughs and runs a hand through her daughter's soft hair. "Yeah, sweetie, I know."


End file.
